


Pride Goeth

by qwanderer



Series: Fallen!Gabe [1]
Category: Good Omens (TV)
Genre: Angst, Gen, Pigeons
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-08-22
Updated: 2019-08-22
Packaged: 2020-09-24 06:57:55
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 758
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20354290
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/qwanderer/pseuds/qwanderer
Summary: “The Almighty would like a word with you.”“Oh, now she wants to talk?” Gabriel muttered. “I’ve been urgently trying to get a meeting for the last day. All right, now it is.” He almost wanted to say something about ineffability, but at the moment the word would have left a bitter taste in his mouth.





	Pride Goeth

Aziraphale walked out of the office with a jaunty wave. His outdated cream-colored coat wasn’t even singed. 

“Well,” Gabriel said to the others. “That’s something new we’re going to have to figure out how to deal with. But in the meantime, I’m sure we can find something productive to busy ourselves with.”

The others gave slightly doubtful nods. Their gazes flicked to the door through which Aziraphale had left, as if afraid to follow, and potentially encounter the rogue angel again.

Gabriel wasn't going to let the mere prospect of Aziraphale stop him, and stepped out of the room. A young messenger angel was waiting there for him.

"What is it now?" he asked.

“The Almighty would like a word with you.”

“Oh,  _ now _ she wants to talk?” Gabriel muttered. “I’ve been urgently trying to get a meeting for the last day. All right, now it is.” He almost wanted to say something about ineffability, but at the moment the word would have left a bitter taste in his mouth.

Gabriel was surrounded by light, and abruptly he was Elsewhere. 

He was, in fact, on the roof of Headquarters. It looked remarkably like the roof of any high-rise building on Earth. There were metal vents, raised skylights, and a not entirely clean or even surface stretched between them. There was a short wall around the edges. And there were birds. Squat, round birds in many colors and patterns, mostly variations on gray.

And there was God.

She sat on a utilitarian gray metal bench, without a back. She wore a soft, oversized gray cardigan. And She looked at him expectantly. So he went and sat down beside Her, straight-backed and formal as She was not.

"Good afternoon," he said.

She didn't reply.

He tried to formulate some logical next response, but a bird fluttered down and sat between them, and he was distracted enough that the next thing he said was, "What are these… doing here?"

"Pigeons, Gabriel," God said. "These are pigeons."

Well, if God was talking about pigeons, then pigeons must be the important thing they were meant to be talking about.

"Why do you have… pigeons? Up here with you, on the roof?"

"I gave humans doves, and humans made them all manner of beautiful and useful, and called them pigeons, and then they neglected their creations and turned on them as villains. Humans are created in My image, which is not always entirely fortuitous for every creature we encounter. But it is the nature of the universe. When something is no longer useful for what we created it for, it must be dealt with."

"I don't understand," Gabriel said. He felt very young and underqualified for this conversation, which was unusual and uncomfortable.

"I know," God said sadly. 

"God," said Gabriel, "I've been having trouble figuring out what I'm supposed to be doing, with the Apocalypse getting all… messed up."

"I know," God said. "And I'm sorry I couldn't help you earlier. Before you did what you just did."

"What I did?"

"Aziraphale loves so deeply. And you were so cruel to him."

There was a sound, and it echoed all around the two of them, and it sounded exactly like Gabriel's voice.

_ Shut your stupid mouth and die already. _

"I didn't…" Gabriel began, but he wasn't sure what he wanted to say, so he just let it trail off.

God stood up, and went to look over the nearest wall at the edge of the roof. "Come here," She said. "What do you see?"

Gabriel looked, and answered, "Earth."

"What is it to you?" She asked. "My creations, and their creations? Is it merely a battleground?"

"It’s… it’s  _ the  _ battleground. The most important things that are meant to happen are supposed to happen there."

God sighed.

"That's right, isn't it?" Gabriel asked.

"I gave you the responsibility of sounding the blast of the trumpet that would herald the beginning of Armageddon. I never told you that Armageddon would take place at a particular time, or place, or at all."

"Well, it has to happen, right?" Gabriel said, gaining back a little more of his confidence that he knew something about what they were talking about. "I mean, it’s my job. I have to do it."

"And if it’s never needed?" God asked.

Gabriel frowned, consternated. "It has to be! It’s my  _ job_!"

"That, Gabriel, is  _ pride_."

Gabriel looked poleaxed. He looked like someone could have knocked him over with a feather. 

And, well.

With barely a gesture, She pushed him off the roof.


End file.
